The Highest Bidder
by snowdragonct
Summary: When their weekly plans are threatened, how far will Duo go to keep Heero's company? A 1X2 Valentine's Day get-together story...that means yaoi, folks.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved.

Warnings: yaoi, swearing, lemon and/or lime, post-War

Pairings: 1X2, 3X4 background

A/N: This is a Valentine's Day story, just a bit early. I expect to have all three parts posted before the big day. Enjoy!

THE HIGHEST BIDDER

Chapter One: Going Once

"Quatre! I need you to loan me some money, man!"

The blonde looked up in surprise to see Duo leaning over his desk, hands flat on the surface and an anxious expression on his face.

The braided man was slightly disheveled, his braid looking almost ratty and a smudge of dirt across one cheek. His clothes weren't any better, reeking of gunpowder, sweat, and maybe a hint of blood.

"Did you just get back from a mission?" Quatre asked, leaning to see around the tall vase of long-stemmed roses on his desk.

"Yes, yes! Now loan me some money fast! I don't have much time."

The aquamarine eyes blinked slowly, and Quatre reached for his wallet. "Duo, it's almost quitting time…the cafeteria won't be open." He glanced up to see Duo looking anxiously at the door, not even listening. "How much do you need?"

The braided man looked back at him. "Oh. I guess five thousand should be enough."

"Five _thousand_?!" Quatre demanded. "Duo, what do you need that kind of money for?"

Duo let out an explosive breath of frustration. "C'mon Quatre. Just loan me the money. You know I'm good for it."

"Of course you are," Quatre said slowly. "But—honestly, Duo—you've never wanted to borrow money before. Even when you were between jobs—before you came to the Preventers to work—you wouldn't let me help you out."

"This is important!" Duo said urgently, scowling with impatience.

"Are you in trouble?"

"No!" Duo exploded. "Goddamnit, Quat, are you going to loan me five grand or not?" His fingers were drumming restlessly on the polished desktop, and his muscles were taut. He practically thrummed with suppressed urgency.

"Of course I will," Quatre assured him. "But can't you at least tell me why you need it?"

"No time!" Duo snapped. "I gotta be across town at the Hilton by six—and with traffic, I'll barely make it."

Wufei had been drawn by the sound of raised voices, and stuck his head in the door. "You'll never make it, Maxwell. You have a mission debriefing to type up before you leave."

"_Fuck_ the debriefing!" Duo spat. "I'll do it over the weekend. Her Ladyship will have it on her damned desk before she gets in Monday morning."

Wufei's jaw dropped. "As accustomed as I am to your irresponsibility in some aspects of your life, Maxwell, I've never known you to shirk your Preventer duties."

Duo turned on the Chinese man. "An' I'm _not_, 'Fei. But this is more important." He turned back to Quatre. "C'mon Winner!"

"Okay—okay. But I don't have that much cash," Quatre told him. "Let me put in a call to my bank manager to authorize the transaction, and we can go to the ATM across the street." He fixed a stern look on his friend. "And you'll explain this to me while we walk."

Duo deflated a little at that, and finally gave a reluctant nod. "But you have to promise you won't tell me it's a waste of money and change your mind about the loan."

"You're borrowing _money_?" Wufei demanded, shocked. "Maxwell, you wouldn't let me buy you a stinking cup of coffee when you were flat broke after getting fired from your last job and losing your apartment! And now you're borrowing from Winner? For something _frivolous_?"

"It's _not _frivolous!" Duo insisted. "I'm helping a friend out."

Quatre quickly finished his phone call, and then stood up and grabbed his jacket, coming around his desk and putting a reassuring hand on Duo's arm. "Relax," he said gently. "You can have the money for anything you want—I won't refuse you no matter what."

"Thanks, man. I promise, I'll pay you back—with interest, even."

Quatre chuckled. "I won't charge interest, Duo. And you can take all the time you need to pay me back. All I want is to know what's so important to you. Who's the friend you want to help so badly?"

"…ro…" came the muttered reply, as they headed out the door with a curious Wufei on their heels.

"Who?"

"…eero…"

"Just spit it out, Maxwell!" demanded the anxious Chinese man, falling in step with them.

"Heero!" Duo finally blurted, blushing to the roots of his hair and picking up the pace.

"Heero?" asked two identically puzzled voices.

"What's happened to Heero that you need five thousand dollars to fix?" Quatre asked with sudden concern. "He's not injured—?"

"No! Nothing like that," Duo assured him. "But he _is _in—danger. Sort of."

"From—?" Wufei asked suspiciously.

They'd reached the front lobby of Preventers headquarters, only to meet Trowa walking in from having been out on an investigation.

"Hey—what's the occasion?" he asked, looking over the trio questioningly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his friends together like that at work.

"Duo's borrowing money from Quatre to rescue Heero from some sort of dangerous situation he was about to explain to us," Wufei replied dryly, folding his arms across his chest.

Three sets of intense eyes settled on the braided man.

"Aw, fuck," he muttered, shoulders slumping. "All right. I'll explain this just _once_. And I don't want any teasing, harassment, or interference—got it?"

"No promises," Trowa shrugged, a faint smirk touching his lips.

"Just spill it, Maxwell, and take the consequences like a man!" Wufei chided.

"Yeah. Whatever." Duo drew a deep breath. "It's like this. I got back from my mission at 1530 hours, only to find a message from Relena on my desk. It seems she suckered Heero into volunteering for some charity auction this evening. It's one of those stupid things where they auction off eligible bachelors to sex-starved women for a night…"

Quatre's lips twitched, and he bit his cheek to keep silent.

"Didn't you do that a couple of years ago?" Trowa spoke up. "Remember when Preventers had a 'perfect date' auction to raise money for the new biohazard suits?"

"That was for a good cause!" Duo said defensively. "And it was just for a company picnic—all I had to do was wait on Lily from the secretary pool hand and foot for an afternoon. And she was a friend, anyway. At least I _knew _her. Heero's going to be sold off to some stuffy society bitch who's got no idea what she's in for. And she'll own his ass until midnight tonight…dinner and dancing at the Hilton." He turned an appealing gaze to Quatre. "He's my best friend! And he doesn't know what he's gotten himself into! I can't just let him get auctioned off to some debutante who'll bore him out of his mind, hit on him non-stop, and force him to dance all night!"

"Why would you?" Wufei said snidely. "When _you _could be doing all that to him…"

"Yes. No! Wait a sec—," Duo sputtered. "I don't know what you're implying, Chang, but I'm not buying him to take advantage," he asserted. "I'm _saving _him…from a fate worse than death!"

"Oh, yeah, right," Trowa drawled. "Why would he want to hang out with a gorgeous woman and drink champagne, when he could be with you?" He eyed the rumpled uniform. "You smell, Maxwell."

"Well sorry I didn't have time to spruce up, Tro'. I just got back from a week-long infiltration mission and a firefight to end all firefights." Indigo eyes flashed in defiance. "I think salvaging my best bud's evening is more important than a little thing like showering…"

"Wait. You can't go to the Hilton like _that_!" Quatre said in horror. "Duo, they won't let you in the door."

Duo dropped a hand to the hilt of a knife in a wrist sheath. "Wanna bet?"

"More to the point," Wufei cut in. "Heero's a grown man, Maxwell. If he signed up for the charity auction, I'm sure he understood what it entailed."

"Heero?" Duo scoffed. "C'mon, 'Fei—all Relena had to do was make it a 'mission' and he'd bloody well jump into the Grand Canyon if she told him to!"

"Again—that's his choice to make." Wufei crossed his arms stubbornly. "Why do you feel responsible for 'rescuing' him?"

"Because I'm his best friend!"

Wufei gave a wry snort. "You just keep telling yourself that's all you are, Maxwell."

Quatre allowed himself a little chuckle. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Duo was seriously in lust with his long-time pal. Wufei and Trowa both suspected, and Quatre knew for sure, having had Duo spill the beans to him once over one too many beers. Quatre didn't know what bothered Duo more right now, the fact that the auction would take Heero away from their weekly beer and pizza night at the local pool hall—or the thought of some rich snotty woman pawing at him.

"Maybe Relena could bid on him," Quatre mused, knowing she'd evoke a less jealous response.

"No, no, no!" Duo snarled. "She's in _charge_ of the whole event—to raise money for some 'Save the Spotted Purple Gallinule' club or something! She can't bid! That's why she sent me the message. She said Heero was pretty bummed about missing our boys' night out, and that she hoped I'd understand." He raised troubled eyes to his friend. "Don't you see? It was a cry for help!"

"Did Relena suggest you bid?" Quatre asked carefully, wondering if it was a call for help or a set-up.

"She didn't come right out and say it—but you know 'Lena," Duo answered. "She wouldn't have told me if she didn't think I'd try to help him out."

Relena had long-since gotten over her school-girl crush on Heero and moved on. Although his Preventers job often entailed serving as her bodyguard at public events, he had many other duties, for which she gladly relinquished him. And her growing maturity had enabled her to become at least casual friends with all five of the former Gundam pilots.

"Maybe she wanted to let you know he wouldn't be available tonight for your usual plans," Quatre suggested. "As a courtesy."

"_He_ already did that," Duo replied. "He left an e-mail…you know 'Ro. 'Can't make it to Skipper's this week. Will explain Monday.' He's as articulate as ever." Duo tugged at Quatre's sleeve. "C'mon, man. We're wasting time. I need the money and to get my ass across town." He glanced at his watch. "Shit! Only an hour!"

Quatre exchanged a look with Trowa. "You go ahead, love. I'll be back as soon as I get Duo on his way." He smiled a small, intimate smile. "And thanks for the roses."

Trowa blushed, ducking his head. "Glad you liked them." He grabbed Wufei's arm. "C'mon, Chang. Let Quatre deal with Maxwell's crisis. I want to run a couple of ideas past you on the Braxton case."

They headed for the elevators, and Quatre turned to face Duo squarely. "Okay. No more bullshit, Duo. You know you're doing this because of the way you feel about Heero. You can't stand the idea of him being at some woman's mercy for the whole evening, can you?"

"We agreed not to discuss that," Duo muttered, embarrassment coloring his face as he recalled the drunken confession he'd made to the blonde. "Can't I just be salvaging his evening because he's my friend?"

"Of course. But you and I both know there's a bit more to it than that."

"What if there is?" Duo mumbled. "'S not like I'm gonna tell him."

"No, I suppose you aren't," sighed Quatre. "But—maybe this will be an opportunity—."

"It's a favor among friends!" Duo retorted, scowling. "Please, Quatre—I'm running out of time."

"Then do me a favor. Go to my office. In the closet there's a clean suit. I keep it for emergencies. Wash up as best you can in the men's room—comb your hair—and I'll be waiting right here with the money when you get back."

"You keep a suit for emergencies?" Duo asked.

"Of course. Besides being a tactical advisor for the Preventers, I _am _the head of the Public Relations Department; I never know when a press conference might come up. And you _know _how the uniform intimidates people."

Duo just shook his head. "Think it'll be a good enough fit?"

"Better than what you've got on," Quatre assured him. "Now go! And hurry it up! I'll have your car brought up from the garage and waiting at the curb."

The braided man pulled him into a quick, fierce hug. "Thanks, Quatre. If you weren't Trowa's, I'd kiss you."

Quatre pulled away, grinning. "He'd kill you," he said with conviction, before turning and heading out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved.

Warnings: yaoi, swearing, lemon and/or lime, post-War

Pairings: 1X2

THE HIGHEST BIDDER

Chapter Two: Going Twice

Heero tugged at his collar, an unusually restless gesture for someone who was accustomed to wearing formal clothing in the performance of his job. When he acted as Relena's body guard, he had to blend into whatever crowd surrounded her—and more often than not, it was a well-dressed crowd.

For some reason, tonight he was uncomfortable in his outfit. Maybe it was the fact that he knew he'd have to go up on stage alone to be gawked at by a bunch of eager bidders, but he felt unaccountably self-conscious. He was reasonably sure that once he got out there, he'd feel even worse. He'd be out in the open—exposed—vulnerable. Those were not places a trained soldier wanted to be.

"Oh, Heero, you look amazing!" Relena waltzed in with a wide smile and an appreciative leer. Yes, the former Queen of the World had learned how to leer…mainly from watching Duo.

The Japanese man grimaced a bit. "Are you sure I'm needed here? Surely there are enough—." He gestured vaguely at the roomful of men they were standing in.

Relena scowled at him, mimicking an expression he knew he used on her when she was being difficult. "There can never be too many good-looking bachelors at a charity auction," she said firmly. "Between the twenty-dollar ticket price and the bids we get, this will be a record-setting fundraiser."

Heero sighed, wistfully thinking how much he missed that first cold sip of beer and the piping hot slice of pizza he and Duo should be sharing right about then. He felt kind of badly about the brief e-mail he'd sent, knowing he'd disappoint his best friend by ducking out of their weekly "date."

Of course, the moment he thought of it as a "date," he mentally scoffed. It was just beer and pizza with Duo—not a date. It was an evening of laughing, joking, teasing, and just plain enjoying each other's company. Nothing more.

But nothing less.

It was the one night of the week Heero looked forward to unfailingly. He wouldn't have admitted it to Duo, even on pain of death. God knew the braided menace was cocky enough already. But if he knew how much those Friday night trips to Skipper's meant to Heero, he'd be merciless in his teasing. He already joked about their "male bonding" time just enough to make the former Wing pilot a bit self-conscious about it. That was partly the reason Relena had been able to shanghai him into the auction; he wanted to prove he could skip the weekly ritual any time he chose.

But he was beginning to regret that decision. And it had little to do with proving he wasn't hooked on the comfortable routine. It had more to do with how disappointed he knew Duo would be.

The other pilot had been gone all week on a mission, and Heero knew when he got back to headquarters, the first thing he'd do would be to stick his head in Heero's office and remind him of their plans. Then he'd throw his gear in his own office, whip up a post-mission report, and change into his street clothes in the men's room. Before long, he'd be bouncing impatiently in the doorway, coaxing Heero away from the desk he seemed to spend far too much time at.

"Baka," Heero murmured under his breath, unable to keep a wistful smile off his face at the thought of his overeager friend.

"What was that?" Relena asked, straightening Heero's tie and studying his face critically.

"Nothing."

She ran her fingers through the front of his hair, mussing it slightly. "Oh—much better! Leave it!" She slapped the hand he raised with the intention of smoothing the unruly locks.

"Relena—."

"It makes you look dashing!" she assured him. "Now try to manage a smile out there—or the closest approximation you can, hm?"

He sighed and nodded, and Relena dashed off to resume her duties as the fundraising coordinator.

A man with a clipboard came in, shuffling the pages, and looking a bit harried. He was muttering about "last-minute changes to the lineup," and scowling at his papers. "All right, boys. Let's line up for the 'Parade of Partners.' You'll proceed out that door over there, once around the ballroom, and then back in here, at which point you'll be called out singly for the bidding."

_God, what have I gotten myself into? _Heero resisted the urge to run a hand down his face in utter despair. They were to be paraded about, like so much prime beef? He'd never felt quite so degraded in his life.

* * *

Quatre's suit did, indeed, fit reasonably well, though it was a tad short in the sleeves. But Duo didn't figure on wearing it long anyway. He just needed to get into the Hilton for the auction, and then he figured he and Heero could skip out and go for their usual pizza and beer at the pool hall, albeit a little bit late. 

When he pulled up to the door in his battered jeep, the valet gave a shocked and disdainful look. "Are you sure you're at the right—?"

Duo jumped out, glancing at his watch and grimacing as he saw that he was nearly thirty minutes late. He just hoped Heero hadn't been the first man on the auction block. "Just park the fuckin' thing," he snarled at the valet, shoving the key and a twenty into the man's hand.

The valet was more impressed with the shoulder holster under the open suit coat, and the well-worn weapon it contained, than he was with the tip. "Y-yes—sir."

Duo darted inside, heading for the main desk. He cut quickly in line, flashing his Preventers badge and giving the startled clerk an intimidating glare. "Where would I find the charity auction?"

"Through those doors and down the hall. There's signs posted."

"Thanks."

Duo walked as quickly as he could, without alarming people, and soon made his way to the grand ballroom. He bought his ticket at the door, ignoring the curious look the woman gave him, and stepped through the door.

Once inside, he quickly scanned the crowd, seeing Relena at the head table, up near the small stage. The audience itself was composed mainly of women—with a small scattering of men who'd probably been lured in as unsuspecting guests or curious spectators.

There appeared to be no seats left, and in fact quite a few spectators were lined up along the walls. Easing through the crowd, Duo worked his way partway up one side of the room, finding an open spot, and leaning wearily against it.

_Please don't let Heero be gone already!_

There was no sign of the Japanese man, and Duo studied the auctioneer and the current victim on the stage. He was a tall, very handsome man, with curly blonde hair. He had almost the same elegant air that Milliardo Peacecraft possessed, and Duo raised an eyebrow, impressed by the quality of the "merchandise."

But the appreciative "oohs" and "aahs" of the crowd made the braided man want to cringe. God! Nothing like a roomful of lusting females to strike fear into the heart of one gay Preventer.

An hour later, he was trying not to yawn, exhausted from a week of intense work, and bored with the bidding process. Until Heero came up for sale, he had no real interest in the string of bachelors parading across the stage.

When he heard a small giggle, he looked over to see a couple of the girls in the audience eyeing him speculatively, and he carefully looked away, hoping they wouldn't get ideas.

He had yet to catch Relena's eye, though he'd tried a time or two, and so he was clueless as to whether he'd missed Heero. But with most of the bachelors going for a few hundred dollars, he relaxed a bit, sure that Quatre's money would guarantee his victory if and when his best buddy was auctioned off.

"…and now for the last gentleman of the evening," the auctioneer announced with a flourish. "And I'm sure you ladies will compete viciously for this one. The record bid at this event was set last year at twenty-two hundred. Shall we see if that record is broken tonight?"

Duo had a moment of panic. The _last _one? Heero must have been auctioned off earlier! But then a very familiar figure walked stoically across the stage to stand almost at attention next to the auctioneer. Tousled brown hair framed that chiseled face, and shrouded the intense blue eyes; but as usual, Heero took Duo's breath away.

_Beautiful as ever…_

"This is Heero Yuy…one of the Preventers' finest, and bodyguard to our Prime Minister." He gave an appreciative leer. "And who wouldn't pay a fortune to have that body guarding theirs, hm?"

"Fucking hell," Duo muttered under his breath, glaring at the salesman. It wasn't like Heero needed to be talked up. A body like that could sell itself.

_What am I thinking? That's my best friend up there. Best friend. And I'm here to be just that to him—not to buy his body for a night. Right?_

"We'll open at two-fifty?" suggested the auctioneer.

Several hands flew up, and Duo winced, seeing women shift eagerly forward in their chairs and reach for their purses.

"Three—three-fifty—four! We have four hundred; do I hear—ah! Five hundred—the lady in the burgundy gown. Six? Do I—? I have six!"

* * *

Heero resisted the impulse to dive for cover. He could hear the auctioneer babbling happily away, raising the bid moment by moment. But he kept his gaze fixed on the floor a couple of feet in front of him. He didn't want to watch a bunch of eager women bidding for his company the rest of the evening. First off, he didn't think he was particularly good company. Only Duo ever seemed eager to spend time with him…Duo who was probably at that very moment nursing a beer and wondering why his best friend had left him hanging. 

The bidding progressed quickly, but finally began to slow down at fifteen hundred dollars. Miss Burgundy Dress raised her hand for sixteen, and the auctioneer nodded in satisfaction.

"I have sixteen-hundred—a fine bid. Do I hear more for this blue-eyed Adonis?" He let his gaze sweep the room for a moment. "Very well—."

"Two thousand!"

Every eye in the room turned to the braided man leaning against the wall, and he blushed under the scrutiny. For an instant, he met Heero's startled gaze, and then dropped his own to the floor.

"Um…ah…yes…er…two thousand to the—gentleman—standing by the wall." The auctioneer eyed Heero warily, as if looking for an objection. Then he looked even more warily at the braided man standing with his arms folded, looking anywhere but at the stage.

"Twenty-five hundred!" said the woman in burgundy, glaring over at Duo.

He glared back.

Heero swallowed hard, catching a glimpse of Shinigami in those indigo eyes.

"I'm bid twenty-five hundred!" said the auctioneer, sounding relieved. "A new record! Going—."

"Three thousand," Duo said firmly, his voice carrying across the room loud enough to be heard over the startled murmurs.

"Three—? Er, yes! I have three thousand. Do I hear thirty-one hundred?"

"Thirty-_five_ hundred!"

_Fuck._ Burgundy lady hadn't given up yet. Duo resisted the urge to flip her the finger—or toss one of his knives at her.

"Four thousand," he said with finality. He dared a glance at Heero, who was open-mouthed in astonishment, all pretense of his emotionless mask gone.

Relena looked, if possible, more stunned than Heero, her gaze shifting between him, the braided man, and Miss Burgundy Dress.

"Forty-five hundred!" snapped the woman, standing and turning to face Duo.

He shot her a perfectly deadly look, and in the rapt silence that filled the banquet hall said, "Five thousand."

A hushed murmur of awe ran through the crowd, and the woman in burgundy swallowed visibly—seething with anger.

Heero closed his eyes, unable to watch the spectacle any longer. His heart was pounding unnaturally hard, though he couldn't quite pinpoint the cause, and he held his breath, wanting the whole damned debacle over with as soon as possible. Why in Hell was Duo doing this? _What _was he doing, for that matter? And where was he getting the money for it?

Duo unobtrusively crossed his fingers as the auctioneer looked from him to the woman and back again, obviously waiting for a counter offer. "Going once…going twice…"

"Fifty-five hundred!" blurted the woman.

Duo winced, and she grinned nastily, sensing victory.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck! _

Duo thought furiously. He had some money put away towards the purchase of his dream motorcycle. He and Heero had seen it several months earlier, and while Duo had fallen instantly in love, Heero had advised against it.

"_You have a hazardous enough job, Duo. You don't need to risk life and limb getting to and from it on a flying death trap!"_

But it was a seriously gorgeous death trap—sleek and black and shiny—low to the ground and streamlined for speed. And Duo could already envision a scythe and the words "God of Death" airbrushed onto the fuel tank.

He had nearly four thousand dollars put away towards the purchase. And in fact, he'd planned to use part of it to pay Quatre's loan back, figuring he'd only need about half to purchase Heero's freedom. Now, if he dared dip into his savings, he'd have to use all that remained and _then _some to reimburse Quatre.

"…once…going twice…and s—."

"Sixty-five hundred!" Duo blurted desperately, glaring at the woman and fingering the sleeve that covered his wrist sheath.

Heero's eyes snapped back open at that, disbelief written across his face as he watched Shinigami stare down the woman, daring her to speak again.

She stared back, opening and closing her mouth indecisively.

The auctioneer was sweating profusely, his worried gaze darting between the combatants. "Th-this is—unprecedented—."

Heero elbowed him firmly in the ribs, giving him a deadly glare and a nod to go ahead.

"Oh. Right. I have sixty-five hundred. Do I hear—?"

Heero elbowed him harder.

"Uh…going once…going twice…sold! To the gentleman with the, er, braid. And that concludes our charity auction. Winning bids may be paid to Prime Minister Peacecraft, who has graciously offered to be our treasurer for this event. Our winners will receive a claim ticket and may then proceed to the next room to meet their, erm, purchases."

Heero was still staring in perplexity at Duo, who seemed to be avoiding his gaze as he headed for the line gathering at Relena's table.

"You need to go back with the other auctionees, sir," suggested the auctioneer, drawing a sleeve across his forehead. "You'll get to meet your buyer shortly."

"We've met," Heero said flatly, turning and heading for the backstage area. He didn't know exactly what had just happened. How did Duo even know where to find him, and why had he bid in the first place? More to the point, why had he bid such an outrageous amount? Growling under his breath, the former Wing pilot vowed to get his answers the minute Maxwell showed up for their "date."

* * *

Duo fidgeted in the line, hoping they'd accept a check or credit card for the additional fifteen-hundred he'd bid over the cash he borrowed from Quatre. But he resolved, after darting a final dirty look at the scowling woman in burgundy, that if necessary he'd run to the nearest ATM and empty his savings account. _Anything_ to keep that woman's hooks out of Heero. 

It took quite a while, as Duo was last in line. But when he reached the table, Relena looked up with a smile. "Duo…I see you got my message."

"Yeah—all of two hours ago."

Her smile turned a bit coy. "You must have just about killed yourself getting over here."

He gave a slightly snide smirk in return. "Wishful thinking, Princess?"

"Not at all. I know how important your Friday night get-togethers are to you, and to Heero." She gave him a searching look. "I wonder though. Do _you_?"

"Huh?"

"You just spent a small fortune so you could have your weekly time with Heero. Does it mean that much to you?"

He scowled, looking down as he counted out the bills Quatre had given him. "Look, 'Lena—I've got five grand in cash. I can either write you a check for the rest, or run to the nearest ATM."

"Of course I'll take a check," Relena assured him. She gave a little wink. "You're lucky I'm the treasurer, and that I trust you."

Duo gave her the cash and check, and looked around restlessly while she filled out a receipt. Now that he'd won Heero's freedom, all he wanted was to get out of the posh surroundings and relax.

"Duo." He looked up into stern blue eyes as Relena handed him his receipt and claim slip. "Don't waste this opportunity," she advised.

"Opportunity?"

"To tell him how you feel—about him. After all, it _is _Valentine's Day."

He scowled at her dangerously. "Look—I just came here to salvage his evening, and the feelings of whatever silly woman might've gotten stuck with a blunt, short-tempered, still-deadly ex-Gundam pilot."

"You sound a bit like Wufei," Relena teased. "I've survived Heero's temper and directness for years. You sell women short."

"You aren't like most women," Duo countered.

The Prime Minister gave him a sharp look. "I'm not sure that's very flattering…"

"Believe me—it's a huge compliment," Duo told her. "You have a level of understanding and tolerance most women lack—at least when it comes to ex-soldiers."

"And you have a level of obliviousness the likes of which I've _never_ seen, when it comes to one particular ex-soldier," Relena retorted. "Now go collect your prize, enjoy the romantic dinner for two, and stop being afraid to let a glimmer of your true feelings show through."

Duo eyed her warily. "I like my head right where it is, 'Lena. On my shoulders, rather than blown clear across the room."

She gave a very Heero-like growl of frustration. "Duo Maxwell, you are the most stubborn ass I've ever met—second only to the illustrious Heero Yuy! You deserve each other!" She stood up and stomped away before he could reply.

"Duo?"

He spun sharply, to see Heero stepping out of the adjoining room, and sudden panic gripped him. "Uh, hi 'Ro." He glanced around at the thinning crowd.

"Hi." Heero stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking a bit uneasy. "So, this is where I'm supposed to introduce myself to my owner for the evening…"

"Shit, no!" Duo said hastily, taking a step towards his friend. "I'm not your—. I don't—own you." _Only in my dreams…_

Heero gave a wry smile, regaining some of his poise. "You paid sixty-five hundred dollars for me. I'd say that makes you my owner…at least until midnight."

Duo shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking down at the floor. "I suppose you're wondering why I did that, huh?" He managed a weak chuckle. "How 'bout I explain it over a beer at Skipper's?"

Heero shook his head, blue eyes glimmering with apparent amusement. "Sorry, but Skipper's is out of the question tonight. Part of your purchase included dinner for two at the Starlight Ballroom," he explained, jerking a thumb upwards to indicate the five-star restaurant on the top floor of the Hilton.

"Seriously?" Duo gaped. "Hell, 'Ro. I haven't been to a restaurant that fancy since Quatre dragged us all to that place on the top of that tower building. You _know _ritzy places give me hives." His joking grin faded at the determined look on his friend's face. "'Ro?"

Heero Yuy was not, and never had been, a stupid man. And Duo was afraid maybe that quick mind was beginning to add a few things together…starting with Duo's appearance at the auction, and ending with the staggering final bid. And while Heero might not be sure what that all meant, he had to at least have a clue.

Now the only question was what he might do about it, if anything, and whether those Friday nights out meant as much to him as they did to Duo.

"You won't get hives from one dinner in an elegant restaurant," Heero said dryly. "Why not relax and enjoy it? We might not get another chance like this. Besides, I signed a contract with the fundraising group. I have to carry out my part of it, and that includes a romantic dinner for two."

"They won't know the difference if we sneak out for pizza and pool instead of caviar and champagne," Duo pointed out, beginning to get the feeling Heero was enjoying his discomfort.

The Japanese man smirked. "But I will." He offered an arm, and Duo looked askance at him.

"Are you shittin' me, Yuy?"

"Package deal," Heero asserted. "Besides, you outbid the wench in the maroon dress. Don't you want her to see us leave together?"

Duo eyed his friend warily, trying to decide if he was kidding around or serious. Sometimes with Heero Yuy it was hard to tell. But he cautiously took the proffered limb, his fingers sliding comfortably around the muscular forearm.

_Shit. _All the times he'd played pool elbow to elbow with his best friend, enjoying the occasional brush of skin against skin, paled in comparison to how it felt to actually hold that arm in such an intimate gesture. Even with a layer of fine silk between his hand and Heero's skin, he could feel the warmth, and the firm muscle, and he bit back a groan.

"Ah, she's watching," Heero whispered, his breath tickling the small loose hairs around Duo's ear, eliciting a small shiver from the braided man.

_Fuck but that felt good…_

Sure enough, burgundy lady was glaring from across the room as Duo and Heero made their way towards the door. The braided man took the opportunity to flash a viciously triumphant smirk at her. And the defeated scowl she returned was worth every penny of the sixty-five hundred dollars, at least as far as Duo was concerned.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved.

Warnings: yaoi, swearing, lemon and/or lime, post-War

Pairings: 1X2

A/N: I lied. There'll be four chapters. I thought I could do it in three…but I was wrong. Sue me.

THE HIGHEST BIDDER

Chapter Three: Gone

The ex-pilots were seated at a table for two, in a small, cozy alcove with a view of the night sky from three sides. A candle burned softly in the middle of the table, next to a single red rose in a tall, slender vase. Two goblets of a sparkling liquid glittered in the faint light, bubbles trickling up the sides to scatter across the top.

Duo resisted the impulse to laugh, and settled for a rueful shake of his head. "This is unbelievable."

"It's very—nice," Heero said carefully, his gaze drawn to the array of stars, and then back to Duo. "And it was very nice of you to—rescue me—from the roomful of crazed women downstairs." He gave his friend a searching look. "That _is _why you spent your life's savings, isn't it? To spare me an evening of being subjected to the whims of a woman I've never met before?"

"Something like that," Duo replied vaguely, his mind drifting back to his conversation with Relena. Oblivious? She thought he was oblivious. But oblivious to what? He looked speculatively at Heero, wondering what Relena thought he'd overlooked. Was there something more to their friendship than he'd been able to discern?

"You do realize in this kind of charity auction that sex isn't part of the bargain, right?" Heero was saying.

Duo blinked in surprise. "S-sex? I didn't—. I wasn't—. I wouldn't—," he babbled, wondering what he'd said to make Heero think he expected sex out of the deal.

Heero chuckled at the panicked look on Duo's face. "No—Duo—I didn't mean it that way! I meant—." He shook his head. "You didn't think that one of those women could demand that of me, did you?"

"Oh. Uh, no," Duo stammered out, sighing in relief. "I mean, I—no. That would be like—prostitution, wouldn't it? Of course they couldn't make you do that."

"So why was it so important to you that I not end up sold to someone else?"

"Whoa. You don't beat around the bush, do you?" Duo asked, taking a sip from his glass. "Wow. It _is _champagne. I was just kidding before." He wrinkled his nose slightly. "Tell me we don't have to eat caviar, though!"

Heero smiled patiently, though frustration simmered just below the surface at the way Duo sidestepped the question. "No, we don't have to have caviar. The champagne is part of their special Valentine's Day meal—anything else is made to order."

"Good." Duo leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table and wriggling his shoulders. "Damn, it's good to relax. After a week of field work, I swear I ache from head to toe."

Heero nodded dutifully, wanting to get back to the question.

But Duo beat him to it, giving him a frank look from across the table. "I guess I just couldn't stand the idea of some chick acing me out of my Friday night company," he said with a shrug. "I mean, you can't tell me you were looking forward to spending the night doing whatever some stranger wanted…having to dance…make conversation…laugh at her stupid jokes…"

"Isn't that what I'm doing with you?" Heero teased.

"Hell, no!" Duo exclaimed, straightening slightly. "I mean—." A scowl furrowed his brow. "Is that how you see it, 'Ro?"

"No, it isn't," Heero answered quickly. "I'm just pulling your leg, Duo." He sipped his own glass of champagne. "Y'know, most guys wouldn't spend their life's savings just to make sure a friend's Friday night isn't ruined."

"I'm not 'most guys,' 'Ro." Duo looked out at the view, finding it easier than trying to read Heero's expressions. "But honestly, I had selfish reasons, too. I didn't want my own Friday night ruined…and it would be, if you weren't in it." He could feel a faint blush on his face, and kept it turned stubbornly away from his companion.

"Thanks," came the simple reply.

Duo didn't know if the thanks was for the rescue, or for admitting his Friday nights would be ruined without Heero's company. And he wasn't about to ask for clarification. "It's okay," he shrugged. "You'd do the same for me."

"Really? I didn't do it two years ago when Lily bought you for the day," Heero reminded him. He frowned as he looked absently at his glass. "I thought you kind of liked her; you seemed okay with being her 'slave for a day.'"

And was that jealousy he'd felt without even recognizing it at the time? It certainly colored his voice now.

"It was kind of like you being Relena's bodyguard, 'Ro. She was nice enough to talk with, and a smart, pretty girl—but then, I've never exactly been attracted to smart, pretty girls. Or any _other _kind of girl, for that matter." _Did I just say that out loud?_

He eyed the champagne warily. _Fuck, Maxwell! When was the last time you ate? Breakfast? Nope…missed it. Maybe supper—last night? Aw, shit._

"Uh, forget I said that, 'Ro. Champagne talking," Duo said quickly, unable to look up at the steady blue eyes regarding him from across the table.

"It's okay," Heero replied without a flicker of emotion in his voice. "I don't care—mind—that you're—."

"Drop it," Duo said flatly, running a hand across his face. "Look, Yuy, I've hardly slept in five days, and I haven't eaten anything substantial in twenty-four hours. So feel free to ignore anything idiotic—or more idiotic than usual—that I say."

Heero frowned at him, and then gestured to the waiter. "Could you bring us some appetizers, please? Something with protein—?"

"We have a wide variety of—."

"Shrimp cocktail," Heero said firmly. "For protein. And maybe the stuffed grape leaves…" He let his gaze trail down the menu, and picked out two additional selections, seeking an optimum balance of protein, fat and carbohydrates.

Duo was looking at him with amusement when he finished ordering and the waiter strode off. "What was that?"

"What was what?" came the blank reply.

"Did you just order a shitload of nutritious stuff for me 'cause I said I hadn't eaten in a while?"

"Yes." Heero eyed him appraisingly, realizing with concern that Duo looked a bit pale and haggard. "You need something substantial…something that will sit well on an empty stomach and provide the nutrition you require." He frowned slightly. "Why didn't you take better care of yourself on the mission? You can't afford to neglect your body's needs."

Duo found himself smiling wryly. _This _was the Heero Yuy he knew and loved…the one who'd lecture him for hours about his eating habits, but then let him indulge in pizza on a weekly basis. The one who always put the mission first, and made sure he was physically fit to carry it out. The one he—_loved_?

"Duo?"

"Hm?"

Heero shook his head at his partner's dreamy tone. "I think you've had enough champagne," he commented, eyeing the nearly-empty glass critically.

"You're probably right," Duo admitted, grinning sheepishly. "Hell, you're _always _right," he amended himself. "Still as perfect as ever."

"I was never perfect," Heero said flatly.

Duo sighed. _To me you were—are._

The food arrived before they could continue the debate, and Heero promptly shoved the most nutritious selection in front of Duo. "Start with those," he urged.

"Yes sir," Duo teased. Then he frowned a little. "How come you get to order me around when I'm the one who owns _your _ass until midnight?"

"Because I care," Heero said simply, watching as Duo obediently devoured the appetizers he'd placed before him.

From that moment, Heero took charge of the dinner, making sure his mission-weary friend ordered a wholesome meal, rather than something rich and hard to digest. And as worn out as he was, Duo submitted to the guidance, finding it oddly soothing that he didn't have to lead.

By the time they'd worked their way through supper, and were finishing the last of a sweet, fruity dessert, Duo was almost nodding with weariness. "Sorry I'm lousy company tonight, 'Ro," he murmured, stifling a yawn behind a hand. "Just tired."

"Then let me take you home," Heero said gently, standing up and offering his hand.

Duo took it with a slight smirk. "No one from the auction is watching now," he pointed out.

"Ah, but I've still got over two hours of servitude." Heero smirked back. "Besides, you're drunk."

"Tipsy," Duo corrected meticulously. "And mostly that's fatigue."

"Maxwell, I've seen you down a six-pack all by yourself and walk away less impaired than you are right now."

"Yeah, well, when you put it on top of a stomach full of pizza, and space it out over a night of playing pool, it doesn't have a chance to sneak up on you like that fancy champagne."

Duo didn't mind at all that Heero slipped an arm around his waist in the elevator to "steady him." And he didn't even object to letting him drive his beloved jeep.

* * *

When they finally arrived at Duo's apartment, it was past eleven, and Duo was nearly stumbling with weariness, which he mostly attributed to the effects of a full stomach and champagne. 

He started to turn around to say goodnight, but Heero pushed past him and walked into the living room, flicking on the light switch.

"Uh, 'Ro—I don't think I'm up to a movie tonight," Duo mumbled sleepily, plunking down onto a chair and picking at the laces of his boots.

"Of course not," Heero said matter-of-factly. "You need a hot shower to relax those tired muscles, and then I thought I'd give you a back rub—work out some of the knots for you."

Duo blinked owlishly up at him. "A back rub?" He scratched the back of his head a bit nervously. "You really don't have to do that…"

"I know. But you've still got almost an hour of my time—," Heero reminded him, "—and I _want _to."

Duo's protest died on his lips at the husky sound of Heero's voice, and he stood up, kicking his boots into a corner of the hallway. "I'll—just go take that shower then." He padded across the living room, suddenly wide awake from the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach.

Duo Maxwell was no less intelligent than Heero Yuy, and despite his rational mind trying to convince him Heero was just being a pal and fulfilling the obligations of the auction contract, he _knew _there was something more there. But as badly as he wanted that something, he feared what it might do to their Friday nights. If he lost his best friend because he wanted too much more, he'd never forgive himself.

Tossing Quatre's suit into the hamper, Duo made a mental note to get it dry-cleaned and pressed before returning it to his kind co-worker. It had been very nice of Quatre to loan it to him—and he was quite sure he wouldn't have been admitted to the Hilton without it. Well, not without bloodshed anyway.

The hot spray of water across his face made Duo want to sink into an exhausted heap on the floor of the tub—but he forced himself to stay upright and _not _think about what Heero might have in mind, as he washed and rinsed his hair and scrubbed off the dirt of a week-long mission. It took longer than he expected, but he felt a million times better.

When he finished, wrapping one towel around his waist, and another in his hair, he eyed his reflection in the mirror critically. Bruises colored his shoulder, where an enemy had kicked him with a booted foot, and there was a long, shallow scrape down one arm from a panicked slide down a rocky slope. He knew he'd get a lecture for both injuries; Heero seemed to have a firm conviction that a soldier of Duo's caliber should never be touched by an opponent.

_Yeah, right. _Duo shook his head, smirking at his reflection. Over the years he'd been more than touched—he'd been beaten bloody, stabbed, shot, nearly run over, and on at least two occasions, almost blown up. A scratch and a bruise were beneath notice…to anyone except Heero.

"Almost done in there?" came a chiding voice from the hallway.

"Oh, yeah. Just a sec." Duo grimaced, realizing that Heero probably wanted to finish fulfilling his obligation and get back to his own place for some sleep. Yeah, he'd just been reading too much into the little gestures and cryptic comments. Rationality reasserted itself.

"Fuck," muttered the braided man, realizing he hadn't brought any clothes into the bathroom. Unless he wanted to put Quatre's suit back on, he'd have to parade past Heero in nothing but a towel. "Well, shit. It's not like he hasn't seen it before."

In fact, they'd seen each other naked plenty of times in the past. During the War they'd shared quarters enough times, tended one another's wounds, and dressed for missions in front of each other without being self-conscious. So why, now, did Duo find himself pausing at the door, reluctant to be so exposed in front of his long-time friend?

He didn't have time to ponder the question, as Heero pulled the door open for him. "Can you grab an extra towel? I'll spread it out on your bed so that if any of the massage oil drips, it won't get on your—." His voice trailed off as his gaze settled on the bare chest, sliding down to the towel that hung loosely around Duo's hips.

"You have massage oil?" Duo asked in disbelief.

Heero nodded, pulling his gaze back up to Duo's face. "I went out to the twenty-four hour drug store around the corner while you were showering." He gave a slight shrug. "They have a whole section of spa and aromatherapy stuff."

Duo blinked, one hand absently clutching his towel a little tighter around his waist. "That's nice…but you didn't have to…"

The blue eyes narrowed. "You can stop telling me what I don't have to do now. It's past midnight. I can do whatever I want."

"Oh."

"And I _want _to give you a back rub…and take care of that scrape on your arm, and maybe make sure those bruises aren't a symptom of a worse injury."

Duo managed a smirk at that, his nervousness easing. "Figured you'd notice," he sighed.

"I notice a lot of things," came the cryptic response, as Heero grabbed a spare towel and gestured Duo to precede him down the hall.

When Duo walked into his bedroom, his eyes widened and he turned around, fixing a questioning look on Heero. "Candles?"

Heero nodded, shrugging slightly. "They're supposed to relax you."

"Aromatherapy?"

"There's a scientific basis for—."

"I _know _that. But you didn't have to—." He stopped himself when he saw the stern gleam in the blue eyes. "Okay. I'll shut up now."

Heero gave a small, triumphant smile, stepping around him and spreading the towel on the bed. "Come lie down on your stomach and close your eyes."

Duo found himself shivering a little as he followed the instructions, hoping Heero didn't notice his nervousness. He turned his face sideways so it wasn't pressed into the pillow, and unsuccessfully tried to relax.

Gentle hands ran lightly across his back, and he shuddered and tensed. This just _wasn't _going to work. He couldn't pretend it didn't affect him to have those hands on him, and he couldn't delude himself into thinking Heero wouldn't notice.

"Look, Heero—this is a bad idea."

"What is?"

"_This._ You—me. Just because they auctioned you off for a romantic evening doesn't mean you have to force yourself to _act_ romantic." Duo scowled in frustration, starting to push himself up onto his elbows.

But a firm hand pressed him back down. "Would it help you relax if I told you I really, _really _want to do this?" asked a husky voice. "I'm _not _'acting.' I _want _to look after you, and massage away the aches and tension I know you're feeling. I want to—to feel your muscles relax under my hands."

Duo slumped back onto the pillow, letting out a soft groan of surrender. He wasn't exactly sure what Heero meant by all that—but he did believe the sincerity in the warm, familiar voice. And it convinced him that no matter what he'd said or done this evening, he hadn't lost his best friend.

"Do you trust me, Duo?" Soft words were accompanied by a soothing stroke down his spine by a strong, sure hand.

"Mm-hm."

"Then let me do this."

"'kay."

"I'm going to comb out your hair first, before it dries into a rat's nest," Heero said quietly, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on both of Duo's shoulder blades.

"G'd idea," came a sleepy response.

Heero carefully unwound the towel from around Duo's hair, and blotted most of the moisture from it before setting to work with his fingers and a comb.

It took a disappointingly short amount of time for him to smooth the strands into a silky fall of chestnut over Duo's shoulder and down the side of the bed. And then he nudged him in the ribs.

"You awake enough to braid it?"

With a soft, amused snort, Duo pushed up on an elbow and spent a moment deftly braiding the long strands. As if he could sleep with Heero Yuy sitting on his bed and nothing but a towel between them! "There," he said quietly. "All done."

"Oh no. Just getting _started_," Heero assured him, pressing him back down onto the pillow, and carefully laying the braid off to one side.

Duo nestled his head into the softness, and closed his eyes again, savoring the warmth of those hands on his skin. But when the hands smoothed oil over his shoulder blades, he practically purred at the sensation. Instead of the cool liquid he'd expected, it felt warm—almost hot.

"You heated it?" Duo mumbled into his pillow.

"I had it sitting in a pan of hot water all this time," came the slightly smug reply.

Duo moaned happily. "Like I said before—you _are_ perfect."

"Maybe I just have a lot of incentive to try to be," came an inscrutable reply.

And then Duo lost the ability to speak—or think—as those skilled hands rubbed harder, fingers working more oil into tight, fatigued muscles and soothing them into slackness. In fact, the deep, steady strokes were so effective that he stopped obsessing about those being Heero's hands delivering the heavenly massage. Not that anyone else could have made him drop his guard long enough to let them get that close to his exposed back, but the blissful sensations wiped out the last of his anxiousness over being touched so intimately by Heero Yuy.

"God, I love you—," he whispered, drifting into an exhausted slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved.

Warnings: yaoi, swearing, LEMON, post-War

Pairings: 1X2 (see warnings)

A/N: Much credit must go to Kaeru Shisho, who critiqued this chapter for me, helped me make wise point-of-view choices, and basically came up with the ending. She is a treasure! Talented, insightful, and generous with her time!

THE HIGHEST BIDDER

Chapter Four: Sold

Long after Duo drifted off to sleep Heero kept massaging that lean back, running his hands soothingly down each muscle and every curve and relishing the feeling of that skin under his.

He felt vaguely guilty for enjoying it so much; a bit like he was taking advantage of his sleeping friend. But try as he might, he couldn't stop himself. And the occasional drowsy "mmmm" that slipped from Duo's lips just made it harder to resist the pleasant occupation.

He'd had some time to consider his feelings—first during their meal, and then while he walked to the drug store to get the supplies for Duo's massage. The fact that Duo had shown up at the auction, almost frantic to keep Heero away from the women bidding there, and the outrageous price he'd been willing to pay, were enough to open his eyes to the fact that there was something a bit more than just friendship there.

He thought back through every moment he could remember—every time Duo had dragged him out for pizza, or helped him work on his car—every time the braided man had been waiting at the Preventers infirmary when Heero was brought in injured from a mission. And looking back at those moments, he saw one thing clearly—whether he'd ever verbalized it or not, Duo cared an awful lot about him.

Now the question was, did he care for Duo as much, and in the same way? And as he let his fingers drift over scars both old and new on the familiar back, frowning at the reminders of how often Duo had come close to death, he realized he did. When he'd noticed how pale and worn Duo looked over dinner, he'd felt more than casual concern for his friend. And when he'd seen him walk out of the bathroom, droplets of water still clinging to the sleek muscles of his chest and sliding down to disappear into the towel, he'd felt a rush of desire he'd never acknowledged before.

That wasn't to say he'd never felt it. There were times he'd been distracted by the smell of Duo's shampoo as they played pool, or noticed the heat of the other man's body beside him when they leaned over a mission report together. But he'd tamped down those vague moments of attraction, telling himself they were inappropriate and unreciprocated. He'd been so sure Duo wanted to be his friend—nothing less—and certainly nothing more.

But now—he'd heard it from Duo's own lips—words that could change everything between them—if Duo really meant them.

But _did_ he? Did that whispered "I love you" as Duo drifted off to sleep mean what Heero thought it did? Did it verbally confirm what Duo's actions had been saying all along? Or was it just an expression between friends? Heero needed to know. And if that meant staying right where he was all night so that he could demand an answer in the morning, he resolved to do just that. He had a feeling it might be the only chance he'd get.

When he'd exhausted his hands and arms, Heero quietly got up and went to Duo's bureau, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and exchanging his dress slacks for the more comfortable clothing. Then he threw his shirt across a chair, blew out the candles, and slipped into bed with the deeply-slumbering ex-pilot, keeping a bit of space between them, but determined to stay until Duo woke.

The sky was paling in the pre-dawn hours before he managed to relax enough to doze off. But when he came slowly awake a bit later, it was to the feeling of another body sprawled comfortably across his.

Duo had moved sometime in the night, ending up with an arm thrown across Heero's bare chest, and his face nestled into his friend's shoulder. His soft snores breathed warm air against Heero's neck, and the loose hairs from his braid tickled the Wing pilot's skin.

One of Heero's arms was under Duo, wrapped around his waist and tingling from being half-asleep, but Heero wouldn't have moved for the world.

Instead, he smiled wistfully up at the ceiling, enjoying the sensation of having Duo's body pressed up against his. In fact, the braided man had one leg twined between Heero's, and unless the Japanese man was mistaken, there was a telltale hardness snug against his thigh. Of course, his body responded in turn, his pulse speeding up slightly as he felt the predictable tightness in his groin.

_God, what a way to wake up!_

Duo murmured sleepily, shifting in the typical pre-waking way, and his arm across Heero's chest tightened its grip. Then his breathing quickened, caught, and the deep indigo eyes flickered open, searching warily until they met an amused blue pair.

"'Ro?" A frown creased Duo's forehead as his half-awake mind apparently searched for a reference point. The thumb on the hand he had splayed across Heero's chest was making soft stroking motions, as if of its own volition.

"Good morning," Heero said quietly, deciding to let Duo in on the fact that he wasn't dreaming.

"Morning?"

"Yes. It's Saturday."

"Saturday?" came the rather puzzled echo.

Heero had thought that when Duo realized he was wrapped around him, he might panic and pull away, but the braided man didn't. In fact, he looked around the room for a moment, as if pulling memories from his surroundings. His gaze traveled to the candles, the nearly-empty bottle of oil on the nightstand, and then to Heero's clothes lying across a chair.

"Um, Heero? Can you help me out here, man? I'm a little—confused."

"You fell asleep while I was giving you a back rub. So I finished, put out the candles, and took the liberty of borrowing a pair of your sweats so I could stay here and make sure you ate a decent breakfast." He decided on the spur of the moment to use the concerned partner excuse, rather than admit he couldn't tear himself away.

"Oh." Duo still didn't remove his head from Heero's shoulder, though he drew back the arm across his chest, fingers sliding almost reluctantly across the smooth skin.

Heero shivered involuntarily at the touch, his breath catching in his throat.

At that point a rather sly glimmer entered Duo's eyes, and his lips twitched as if he was holding back a smirk. "Heero?"

"Yes?" came the breathless reply.

"Can you explain why I'm—um—naked?"

"Your towel must have come loose during the night," Heero guessed, trying without success not to envision what the stray towel had been covering.

"Ah." Duo _still _didn't pull away; nor did the firm pressure of his erection against Heero's thigh diminish. But he lifted his head, and looked searchingly into Heero's face. "You aren't running away," he said carefully.

"No."

"Why n—? I mean—. Do you _want _to?"

Heero chose to deliberately misunderstand. "Want to what?" He shifted his hips slightly, so that Duo could feel the response his body was having to their proximity.

"Ohhhh," Duo groaned, closing his eyes. "_Fuck…_"

"Yes."

The indigo eyes flew open again. "What?"

"You asked if I wanted to—fuck." Heero kept his voice carefully neutral, and his face expressionless as he played with Duo's words.

"No I di—." Duo froze. "You said 'yes.'"

"Yes," Heero repeated gravely, looking squarely into those suddenly-vulnerable eyes. He felt a shiver run through the body pressed so close to his, and watched the pupils in those deep indigo eyes dilate, and Duo's lips part, a nervous tongue slipping out to moisten them. And he decided to stop beating around the bush and seize the opportunity to pull those parted lips down to meet his.

And meet they did—in a burst of heat and sweet desire that set every nerve ending in Heero's body on fire. He slid his fingers into the loose hair on either side of Duo's face, thumbs caressing the soft, slightly stubbly skin of his cheeks as the kiss deepened and lengthened, and threatened to steal their breath permanently. And long before it ended, their bodies were melded together, legs entwined and bare chests rubbing against each other. Duo's arms had found their way around Heero's waist, his fingers digging into the muscles of the Wing pilot's back as he clung fiercely—almost desperately.

When they paused in the exploration of tongues and teeth and hungry lips, they pulled apart only enough to draw breath.

Panting against Heero's mouth, forehead against forehead, Duo blinked hazy, heavy-lidded eyes. "God, if I wake up and this was a dream I'm gonna kill myself."

"Don't even say things like that," Heero whispered hoarsely. "I can't imagine life without you." He brought their mouths together again, caressing Duo's lips as lovingly as he'd caressed his back while he slept.

Duo moaned into the kiss, hands sliding up so his fingers could run through the messy brown hair. "Aw, fuck, 'Ro—," he mumbled between teasing, heated kisses. "Please mean what you said before."

"What I said?" Heero murmured back almost unintelligibly as he sucked Duo's tongue into his mouth.

"'Bout—mmm—wanting to—."

"Y'mean fuck?"

"Mmm-hmm." Duo hooked a leg around Heero's hips, pulling their erections together with only the soft fabric of the sweatpants between them. "Want you—," he gasped, arching back as Heero's lips found his throat and a hot tongue traced its way down to a nipple. "Oh, God—_please_!"

"You don't have to beg," Heero whispered, licking his way back up to Duo's mouth and claiming it in another deep, hungry kiss. "I'm more than willing," he added when he pulled away to take a breath.

Duo's fingers slipped down to the waistband of the sweatpants, sliding between the fabric and Heero's skin. "Take 'em off, Yuy."

And as quickly as that, Heero slid out of the garment, kicking it down towards the foot of the bed. Then he rolled so that Duo was stretched out beneath him, his wrists held under Heero's hands. "I think I like you like this," he murmured silkily, dropping his face to the bare chest in front of him and teasing at the skin with lips and teeth. "I like it a lot," he added, working his way down.

Just as he'd lovingly stroked every scar on Duo's back the night before, he now licked and kissed each one on his front…the neat white line of a knife slash along his ribs…a pair of small, half-inch bullet holes…the patch of pale flesh where a chunk of hot metal flung from an explosion had burned into the fair skin.

It was a miracle Duo was alive. Hell, it was a miracle either one of them was. And Heero decided that it wasn't worth taking the chance that their miraculous existence might come to an end without them having owned up to their feelings and acted upon them.

The last of his uncertainty slipped away as he explored Duo's body, relishing every moan and gasp and shiver of delight he drew from his partner. Having never been a man of many words, Heero thought it better to let his actions speak for him, and so he ran his hands caressingly over the body beneath him, touching and tasting and simply drowning in the euphoric sensations.

"_God,_ Yuy. You're amazing—."

_I sure as hell hope so; otherwise how could I ever hope to hold your interest? And how did I get it in the first place?_

Heero dropped that train of thought, concentrating on the taste and smell and feel of Duo's body. There'd be time enough for thinking and sorting things out later, after he'd shown Duo how he felt about him.

By the time his explorations took him down to the hard length he'd had pressed against his thigh when he woke up, he'd reached a fumbling hand for the oil on the night stand and managed to pour some onto his fingers. And at the same time he was running his tongue over the head of Duo's erection, before taking it into his mouth, he was stroking the soft skin behind it with teasing, coaxing fingers working their way to where they wanted to be.

Duo gasped and thrust up reflexively, a hoarse curse escaping his lips. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, 'Ro!"

Heero hesitated in his ministrations, looking up to meet eyes that were practically ablaze with passion. "Should I—stop?" _By God, if he says ' yes' I'll—!_

"Only if you want me to fuckin' _kill _you," came the swift reply, forced out between ragged, panting breaths.

"Well, we can't have _that_," Heero rasped out, totally unable to keep his voice as impassive as he'd tried. Before Duo could change his mind, Heero slid the first finger into the tight, hot passage he'd worked his way back to.

"God_damn_!" Duo gasped. "_Fuck, _yes!"

Heero nearly lost control at that, his body wanting to take over and just get _on _with it—but he held back long enough to work up to two and then three fingers. He didn't want to hurt his lover—but the need to surrender to the desires he'd tried to ignore was getting too intense. He pulled back his fingers, and brought himself into position between the spread legs, his hand shaking as he dribbled some of the oil onto his erection.

Duo was panting, his face suffused with color, and his eyes practically glowing with desire. But his hands found Heero's shoulders, holding him back slightly as he studied the familiar face. "Don't—I don't want you to do this if—unless it means as much to you—." He shook his head slightly, hesitation in his expression—almost a trace of despair in the depths of his eyes. "I can't—pretend—."

He watched Heero's eyes warm, another emotion overwriting the lust that burned in them. "So you meant what you said? Last night…as you were falling asleep."

Duo blinked, and then blushed hotly as memory returned. But he swallowed hard, and nodded. "So if—if you just want a quick fuck and then to go back to the way it was, I don't think I can—."

The Japanese man laid a gentle finger across his lips. "Shhh…" Before Duo could respond, Heero pressed a soft, tender kiss to those trembling lips. "Does that feel like all I want is a quick fuck?" Duo's wide indigo eyes met the deep blue ones, searching them for a reflection of his own feelings.

"I said that to get your attention," Heero continued. "But now that I have it—." He kissed Duo again, gently, pulling back when he tried to return it wildly. "I want much more than a quick fuck—or any other kind, for that matter. I want everything—all of you. I want to love you, and to _make _love to you."

"You mean you—?"

"—love you, too? Very much, Duo Maxwell." And then Heero pressed forward, slowly sheathing himself in the tight heat, never taking his eyes from the shining indigo ones.

"Oh, God I love you, 'Ro…" gasped the braided pilot, his breathing shallow as he adjusted to the intrusion. "Fuck, that feels good. _You _feel good." He closed his eyes, moaning quietly as Heero drew back and thrust gently. "Make that _great_," he breathed in ecstasy.

Heero leaned in to steal a kiss, whispering, "I can't believe I'm here with you…_in _you…Duo."

The husky words sent a fresh wave of lust straight to Duo's groin, nearly making him come right then.

"Mine," Heero murmured against his lips. "You're _mine_."

The possessive growl, tinged with awe and disbelief, made Duo's pulse race, and he wrapped his legs around his lover's waist, thrusting hard against him. "Yours," he growled in reply. "Only yours." And though he'd never admitted it before, even to himself, Duo knew his heart had belonged to his partner for a long, long time.

"Forever?" Heero asked, his pace speeding up.

Feeling his lover's eagerness—the slipping of that iron control Heero always seemed to have—gave Duo a moment of triumph, that _he _could be the one to make the perfect soldier lose control. He let himself go as well, matching the passion in the hard body above him.

"Always!" Duo's eyes were slitted, his attention focused solely on the joining of their bodies. "Aw, fuck Heero—." His fingers tightened their grip on Heero's shoulders, as hips thrust to meet hips, and half-lidded eyes drowned in the passion reflected back at them.

Lust long-denied brought them both to completion far too soon; first Duo tensed and gasped out Heero's name as he came between them—and the ecstasy on his face brought Heero along as well.

The feeling of his lover thrusting deep and emptying himself inside him, and the expression of rapture on the familiar, adored face intensified Duo's pleasure, drawing a deep groan, as they clung together through the waves of release and then collapsed into the jumble of blankets and sheets, panting and sated.

They remained tangled up in love, neither able to move—yet Duo felt the need to straighten out his thoughts, if nothing else.

"When?" His breathless voice broke the near-silence.

"When did I know?" came the equally breathless whisper. Heero smiled wryly, disentangling himself and rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "Part of me knew a long time ago. But it took my brain awhile to catch on."

"Smart guy like you?" Duo said teasingly, gradually regaining control. He turned his head, quirking a smile at his partner. But it wavered tentatively—as if he was afraid to find out what was happening wasn't real.

"Yeah, go figure," Heero smirked back. He ran his fingers across Duo's cheek, cupping the familiar jaw and leaning in for another kiss.

Duo closed his eyes, loving the feel of that strong hand—a hand that could crush his bones—cradling his jaw tenderly. He relished the warm, tender lips that devoured his own, and the teasing tongue that stroked and teased its way into his mouth. He was almost breathless again when Heero pulled back.

"So—I was thinking," Heero said with a hint of lust creeping back into his voice. "I've got some of this oil left, and even though you got a back rub, there's still a whole lot of places I neglected. You up for another round?"

Duo groaned, feeling an instant response from his weary body. "That's the sixty-five hundred dollar question isn't it?"

"Hey, that reminds me—where'd you get the money for the auction?" Heero demanded, pushing himself up onto an elbow so he could look down at his lover's face.

"Actually, I borrowed five grand from Quatre," Duo admitted, smiling sheepishly. "And the rest I took out of my motorcycle fund."

A smile lit Heero's face, warming Duo all the way to his toes. "You were willing to give up the black death trap for me?"

"It—seemed like the thing to do at the time." Duo's lopsided grin faded, and he reached to run his fingers through Heero's tousled dark hair. "Yeah, you're worth all that, and more."

Heero Yuy, former perfect soldier and savior of the Earth, actually blushed at the soft affection in Duo's voice. And Duo watched in amusement as he tried to cover that moment of weakness, by pretending to be deep in thought, the most adorable scowl wrinkling his forehead. "Well—maybe—but you'll be paying Quatre back forever."

Duo gave a wry snort. "'S not like either one of us will be able to avoid paying for it at work."

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, Yuy—everyone saw me begging Quatre for money. And you _know _he and Relena talk. He'll call to ask her how the auction went…she'll tell him I sold my soul to own your ass…and they'll all fill in the blanks any way they want. We're gonna be ribbed about this for days."

Heero chuckled wryly. "Weeks, probably." His warm gaze searched his lover's face. "Still think it was worth it?"

Duo rolled to face him, renewed lust glowing in the dark eyes. "Oh yeah." His hand slid down the lean back and curled around Heero's hip, pulling them closer together. Having caught his breath, he was already hungry for more of the most intoxicating kisses he'd ever tasted…and they had all weekend ahead of them. "It'll be worth every penny."


End file.
